Chapter Twenty-One

Wyatt

When I came back to bed last night, Brandy was sound asleep, balled up on her side of the bed, and I tried my best to stay on my side of the bed, leaving a space between us. Just as I felt there should have been.

Without it, I wasn't sure how much self-control I'd have. Each passing moment with Brandy was getting harder and harder for me to remember why I needed to keep her at arm's length.

Somewhere in the middle of the night, though, Brandy must have moved because while I was lying on my back, my arms at my sides, Brandy was now cuddled up next to me.

I closed my eyes before taking the rest of the scene in more closely. I inhaled, praying for strength, and reopened one eye, peering over at her.

Yep, Brandy's head was resting on my chest and her arm was draped over me, reaching to my side, her fingers brushing my arm.

I was so tempted to lean down and kiss her head, to wake her up, and tell her that I was ready.

Ready to be with her.

Ready to let someone in again.

Ready to feel alive again.

Before our conversation last night, I wasn't sure I'd ever feel this way again, but I opened up and I didn't hate it. Turned out, everyone who insisted it was good for me was right.

I looked once more at the way Brandy laid on me, her blonde hair draped behind her, and wondered if she was the right person for me to open up to. As good as I felt, I knew I wasn't there yet, not really. I couldn't give her what she deserved. I couldn't be what she needed. Not yet.

My eyes still on her, I noticed the sheet was barely covering her and I caught sight of her backside, the curves of her bottom sticking out of her shorts. I looked away just as fast, though, knowing that it was going to be pretty difficult to hide my body's reaction to her, being this close and all.

Brandy stirred slightly, her hand moving from where it was near my arm, and I knew she was waking up. The rise and fall of her chest on mine had me noticing for the first time that she wasn't wearing a bra.

Savoring the feel of her chest on mine, I quickly closed my eyes again, not wanting her to know I was up first, watching her sleep, imagining what it'd be like to take a leap and really be with her. To touch her body, to feel myself inside of her.

"Oh my gosh!" And just like that, the warmth of Brandy's body on mine was gone as she slid over on the bed.

I opened my eyes and fake yawned. Acting slightly groggy, I looked over at her and she immediately freaked out, her eyes widening.

She grabbed the sheet and brought it to her chest, covering herself to her neck with it. She let out a laugh, but it sounded more forced than anything, like something to fill the awkward silence that was filling the air. "Morning," she said, her voice hitting an octave higher than usual. "I'm going to the bathroom," she stated, letting go of the sheet and slipping from the bed.

"Morning," I said, amused by the whole thing.

She spun around, pulling at the ends of her hair. "Morning," she said again. She smiled at me nervously and my eyes fell to her breasts, wanting the weight of them on me again. Her nipples were hard, pushing up against the tight, too-thin fabric of her pajama shirt. How I wanted to touch them, to roll my fingers over them, to cup her breasts with my hands and suck on those rosy buds, letting my teeth rake across them until she bucked forward and cried out in pleasure.

Clearing my throat, I looked away and she spun on her heel again, rushing into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

I heard the shower start up and thanked God there were two bathrooms. I took the pillow beside me and put it over my face. I hollered into it before putting it back and getting out of bed. "Dammit," I said to myself. "I need a cold shower."

* * *

"You're going to be late to your own wedding," I said when I heard Brandy come up behind me and sit in a stool at the counter, my back to her as I faced the stove.

"Har-har! You're so funny." Then she added, "Technically, though, it'd be my wedding, so I wouldn't be late. The wedding doesn't start until the bride shows up. Anyway, what smells so good?"

I finished plating the last of the French toast before turning around.

"Holy smokes!" she exclaimed. "Is this all for me?" She held a hand to her chest and stared at everything I'd done. "I'm flattered, really, but doesn't breakfast usually consist of pancakes or French toast?

I shrugged my shoulders. "I didn't know what you preferred, so I made both." Along with preparing fruit cups, yogurt, and coffee.

"You could've asked."

I brushed off her comment. "I told you, I enjoy cooking."

"So you said."

"French toast. Always French toast." She took the plate from me and began cutting it into tiny squares before digging in. "The French, they gave us so many wonderful things," she said, moaning as she took her first bite.

"Like French toast," I said, enjoying watching her add maple syrup all over the rest of the pieces.

She waved a fork at me. "Exactly. And French kissing."

"French kissing is a good one," I agreed, swallowing hard as my mouth went dry.

In between bites, she stopped and added, "I'd say French fries, but that was Belgium. Anyway, I love pancakes, too, don't get me wrong, but when given a choice, French toast always wins out."

I nodded, totally mesmerized by her. This woman was something else, that was for sure.

"Aren't you going to eat?" she questioned. But before I could answer, she forked a bite of the French toast and lifted it to my mouth, her hand under it. "You have to taste this."

I quirked a brow. "And you're going to feed me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, couples do it all the time."

"Yes, but we're not a real couple. We're—"

"A fake couple. I know, I know." Then she shook the fork and pushed it closer.

I brought my head to the fork and steadied her hand with mine as she guided it into my mouth. I took a bite and swayed my head back and forth. "I make some mighty fine French toast."

She took another bite herself and laughed. "It's the maple syrup, it makes everything better."

I shook my head and leaned back into the stove. "I'm not buying it. Those were good plain and you know it. I saw you have a bite before you drowned it in that sticky, sweet mess."

She laughed again. "You're right. They were amazing plain, but now they're fabulous." She held up a finger and looked upward as she continued chewing. "Does fabulous trump amazing?" she asked, taking some fruit and adding it to her plate.

I cocked a brow.

"Never mind, it does now," she said. "I can't tell you how happy I am that we have some time for ourselves before getting back into wedding stuff."

"It hasn't been all bad." I crossed my arms and leaned over the counter, watching her enjoy every bite she took before reaching for the pancakes myself. Poor rejected pancakes, I mused.

"No, you're right. It hasn't been all bad. But I'd like to enjoy being here in Destin for a minute, you know?"

I tossed a dollop of the yogurt over my pancakes, took a bite and nodded while chewing. "You still down to go to the beach?" I asked when I swallowed.

"Absolutely! In fact, I already know what I'm going to wear."

My gut clenched at the prospect of her coming out in another one of those teeny, tiny bikinis again, but I couldn't think about that now. "Good, so you should be ready soon then?"

She let out a fake laugh. "Is this going to be like a running joke now?"

I smiled. "I suppose it is."

She rolled her eyes and ate the last bits on her plate.

"Go ahead," I gestured for her to leave. "I'll clean up."

"This hardly seems fair," she responded, getting up. "You're always doing all the cooking and cleaning."

"It's okay, really." I didn't mind a little manual labor. In fact, I kind of enjoyed it. I didn't get to cook in my hotel room, unless it could be done in the small kitchenette, which really couldn't qualify as cooking. Besides, doing anything for one never felt like a lot of fun.

Stopping just outside the bedroom door, she turned back. "You sure?"

"I'm sure." I grabbed the plate and put it in the sink with the rest of the stuff that needed to be cleaned. "You go get ready."

She placed a hand over her heart and gushed. "I have the most incredible boyfriend. I'm one lucky lady."

I chuckled and rolled my eyes. "Fake boyfriend," I pointed out for good measure. We both needed to remember that part.

"Still," she said and sauntered off.